Forget About Breakfast
by frustratedstudent
Summary: Eponine has plans to welcome Enjolras home after two weeks apart. Modern day AU, follow up to "Don't Mess With the Surgeon"


_A/N: I've had this rather saucy bit in mind for a long while. This is set around a year after the events of "Don't Mess With the Surgeon", and some time towards the end of "The Quirkiest of Foundations". Warning for smut._

**Forget About Breakfast**

The last thing Eponine Thenardier expects from being with Auguste Enjolras is that they will ever be a normal couple. It's more than the story of their harrowing and _life-saving_ first meeting in the emergency room of the Saint-Michel Hospital, or even the fact that they are one of the city's unofficial medico-legal tandems; apparently trauma surgery and human rights law have some very dire ways of intersecting. While other couples write love letters and go out for dinner and dancing, here they are swapping case files and meeting up after her 24-hour shifts and his all-night overtime for bleary-eyed breakfasts at the city's one cereal bar.

The Sunday morning Eponine turns up outside Enjolras' home after yet another gruelling night shift is no different. It's just past the crack of dawn, she's still a little ornery from having only caught a brief nap on a hard chair in the emergency room, and some part of her wishes that she was wearing something a little nicer than her favourite red scrub suit, but there is one important thing that makes all of that rather inconsequential. '_How often does one get to celebrate winning yet another landmark case?' _she thinks with unmitigated glee as she silently lets herself into his apartment using the spare key she acquired two weeks ago just before he had to fly across the country for the trial.

For a brief moment Eponine worries that she's misread his latest text message or mixed up the time again, and that he isn't home after all. She fears she'll find the apartment spic and span, just like the past few occasions she's been here to make sure that his mail wasn't piling up or that rats weren't making a home in the cupboards. This time she can feel a smile spreading over her face as she takes in the sight of his black raincoat hanging on a peg, his shoes placed atop the small rack a few paces away, his laptop on the coffee table, and the bedroom door standing ajar. As quietly as she can, she kicks off her sneakers and removes her socks, taking care to roll them up and tuck them in her shoes; the last thing she wants is to have to search for a sock under the sofa or worse. She sets down her work tote on a chair and then slinks over to the bedroom, pushing on the door just enough to let herself in.

Eponine pauses in the doorway when she finally sees Enjolras still fast asleep, completely heedless of the morning sunlight that will surely shine in his face within a few minutes, or even of how the blanket does not quite cover his midsection. It's the first time in a fortnight that she's looking at him properly, meaning not through a television screen during the heavily documented and covered trial, or through a webcam like during the few times they'd been able to chat. Now she's convinced that the best camera angles cannot do justice to him, whether he is awake and in his element or in a quiet moment such as this. She feels something clench in her chest as she watches the deep but regular rise and fall of his bare chest and the slight twitching of his eyelids and his fingers that are sure signs that he is dreaming. '_Not for long though,' _she decides as she goes over to the bed and lies down next to him.

It is only then that he stirs so that he is lying on his back instead of on his side. Eponine takes it now as her cue to plant a kiss on his cheek as her fingers trace lines on his collarbones. "Good morning," she murmurs in his ear when he turns towards her.

He lets out a soft grunt as his eyelids flutter for a moment. "Eponine?"

"Yeah, it's me," she whispers against his stubble-covered jaw. "As in it's _really_ me, you're not dreaming."

Enjolras' eyes are dark with confusion for a fleeting second before he properly meets her gaze. The smile that soon crosses his face is enough to make her breath catch in her throat even before he catches her lips in a short but chaste kiss. "I missed you," he says, his voice still heavy and cracked from sleep.

She sighs happily as she presses her forehead to his, knowing better than to find the words to match his simple but earnest greeting. His fiery eloquence is no secret to the outside world, but she is the only one who comes undone with his straightforwardness. "I wish I'd watched the hearings. You were incredible," she finally says.

"You were following the trial every day on livestream," he reminds her as he clasps her hand.

"I wish I'd been _there," _she replies. It's more than how she is so entranced by him and his public speaking, or even her curiosity about legal proceedings; there is the terseness she could see in his countenance during some asinine debates or even the weariness in his voice when he would call her just to vent after an arduous hearing. To drive the point home she kisses him again, this time lingering against his lips as his hand clasps the small of her back. "I really don't know how you do it."

"Years of training, an excellent and crazy legal team, and free medical advice," he quips. His other hand rests on her shoulder and dangerously close to the neckline of her scrub top. "Did you just come straight from work?"

She nods as she scoots up closer to him. "Had a pretty crazy shift. No one dead, that's good, but it seems as if road safety rules were abolished last night. Had to stitch up maybe half a bus' worth of patients...what are you looking at, Auguste?" she asks, suddenly noticing the very appreciative look he is giving her.

"I was wondering if these are the same scrubs you wore on that day in the ER," he admits.

She snorts as she swats his shoulder playfully. "They _might_ be. I didn't know you have a thing for me wearing my work clothes."

He catches her hand and plants a slow, sensuous kiss on her palm, giving her goosebumps all along the length of her arm. "Forget the work clothes part," he mutters before moving his lips to brush over the tip of her nose, her chin, and the hollow of her throat.

Eponine gasps on feeling his breath on her skin and she tugs lightly on his hair. "Just because _you_ are in dishabille?" she teases.

He smirks as he presses a kiss to the underside of her right ear. "I know you wear some of these to sleep, even when you're off duty."

"Who told you that?"

"Courfeyrac, who heard from Azelma."

She rolls her eyes on hearing this; nothing is sacred for that particular pair. "They're very comfy," she points out. "Also they're certainly warmer than what you've got now," she adds as she begins running her hand down his chest and on to his abdomen just to illustrate the point.

Enjolras' face goes red for a moment but he meets her challenge by kissing her soundly, leaving her just as flushed as he is. "Are you quite sure?"

"You want to prove to me otherwise?" she manages to say when she can catch her breath. She knows that this is more forward and daring than they have ever been in the past year they have known each other, or even in the months that they've been openly together. She'd be lying though if she insisted that she was completely oblivious to his charms on their first meeting. '_Though what would you have done if he'd been the perfect gentleman from the very beginning?' _she finds herself wondering. Perhaps she would not have been so determined to find out what made him so exasperating, and he would not have been so intrigued by her stubbornness.

He brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face before cupping her chin. "Only if you want me to." He looks her in the face and takes a deep breath. "Just because I'm finally home after two weeks and we're in my room, that doesn't make this mandatory."

The fact that he even asked is what decides the matter, and so she pulls him closer, hooking her legs around his to keep him with her. She runs her hands over his face in order to let her fingertips become reacquainted with the softness of his eyelashes, the smoothness of his lips and even the strong line of his jaw. "Please," she whispers.

Enjolras does not need to be asked twice, for he loses no time in making another slow trail of kisses down her neck. He lingers against her pulse point and then even longer when he finally reaches the v of her neckline, smiling against her skin when she moans at the contact. One of his hands begins to trace circles on her breasts while the other lifts the hem of her top so that his fingers can brush over her navel. Eponine whimpers his name as she arches into his hand; she never thought that callused fingers could feel so good. She reaches down to help him remove her shirt, which she then tosses off the bed. For a moment she wishes that she had worn something more alluring in the way of lingerie instead of her favourite sports bra, but the idea is dispelled when she catches the astounded look on Enjolras' face. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he replies even as he begins running his fingers up and down her back. "I can't believe I'm seeing you in this way."

"It was inevitable," she deadpans, and that is as close as she will get to admitting that she has been imagining for a long time how this moment might finally be like. Even now not even her most vivid daydreams comes close to the way he holds her, or the way that heat pools deep in her stomach when his gaze catches hers. She pulls away from him so she can remove her bra more easily, and this time she grins when she sees him swallow hard as he stares at her. She moves so that she is sitting on top of him now, taking care not to jostle his now very obvious erection. "Hmm, maybe you're right about the warmth there," she says as she rubs his now sweaty shoulders.

Enjolras hisses under her touch before reaching up so he can plant a kiss right between her breasts. She lets out a soft cry even as she feels herself growing wet between her legs but she pushes him back on the bed before he can tease her further. "Eponine, come on," he cajoles as he reaches again for her.

She takes both his hands firmly. "I'm not done yet," she insists. She cannot get enough of the sight of him so bare under her; while it certainly isn't the first time she's seen him nearly nude, this is the first time she is really able to admire him. His perfectly sculpted muscles make a strange contrast with the two long scars running over his midsection, marks of her handiwork. She kisses his side even as she runs her hand over one of the scars. "I'm sorry they won't fade."

"It doesn't matter to me," he informs her as he meets her eyes. "I'm serious about remembering _every_ moment with you."

Eponine lets out a ragged breath at this reminder of his promise to her on the morning when they'd first kissed in this very apartment. "I want more. So much more," she murmurs against his lips, even as she feels his hand now on the waistband of her pants. She presses his fingers flat against her hip to encourage him and it isn't long till he is undoing the drawstring of her scrubs and pulling her pants down her legs. She kicks away the garment a mere moment before she feels his hands and then his mouth on her breasts, and she cannot help but cry out again as she gives herself over completely to his touch. He kisses her forehead then moves them so that he is now on top of her, with his hand cradling the back of her head.

He uses his knee to nudge her legs apart so he can settle comfortably between them, and the feel of him so close to her core has her mewling with desire as she bucks her hips against his. He smirks before kissing the corner of her mouth. "Right now?"

"Yes!" she nearly screams as she grabs his arms. She wants to cry with frustration when his fingers trail over her underwear, pulling off her panties in the most tortuously slow manner she can possibly imagine. Suddenly she feels his hand between her legs, rubbing her so that her thighs grow slick with every stroke. "Auguste, please!" she whimpers as he buries two of his fingers in her center.

Enjolras kisses her trembling lips again as he curls his fingers inside of her. "What did you say?"

"I want you," she moans, burying her face in his shoulder. Each movement of his sends jolts of sheer pleasure through her body yet even so she knows that she is still not close enough to fall over the edge. She pushes her hips against his hand, desperate for more friction. "I want you so much, please don't stop, please don't..."

His eyes are dark with desire as he kisses her, letting her keen and cry out into his mouth when he pulls his hand away from her. "Give me a moment," he says, meeting her affronted eyes before removing his boxer shorts.

She helps him along, deliberately brushing her palm against his erection till she hears him swear through gritted teeth. "Now _this_ is unexpected," she whispers, finally taking in the sight of him in all his naked glory. The part of her mind that is still in disbelief at the fact that they are this close and that they will finally make love is instantly dispelled when he rests his cheek against hers and holds her close. "Auguste are you sure..." she murmurs as she turns to face him.

Enjolras clasps her hands as he positions himself at her entrance. "Yes I am."

Eponine nods and kisses him before he buries himself in her with one swift motion. It takes a moment for her body to adjust to the feel of his length, but the friction is nothing short of exquisite as he begins to slowly thrust in and out of her. She raises her hips to take in more of him, and gasps with pleasure when he lifts her feet so that she can better wrap her legs around his waist. "How did you know-"

"I know you," he replies before kissing her neck as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts, pushing in so deep each time and bringing her inexorably closer to her climax. The sight of him making love to her is breathtaking, more so when his deep blue gaze locks with hers and she is certain in that moment that each touch of his says more than the finest words. She runs her hands all over his arms and back as she matches his rhythm till she hears him groan her name into her shoulder with each movement of her hips. The very sound is enough to make her body clench as her vision suddenly goes white, and she screams his name while grabbing at his hands to anchor her in the midst of her climax.

She is still mostly insensible with pleasure when Enjolras reaches his own release just mere moments later, but she manages to open her eyes as he relaxes against her and rests his chin on her shoulder. Her hands are shaking as she twists his hair around her fingers. "Welcome back," she murmurs.

He raises his head and smiles on seeing her flushed though radiant face. "You mean welcome _home_," he says against her lips.

She laughs before kissing him back, knowing exactly what he means. "I like this, but I think I prefer not having to miss you so badly."

"That's true," he concurs before pushing her hair behind her ears as he moves to lie beside her. "You didn't have plans for the rest of the day, did you?"

"I just got off duty. Of course I don't have plans, yet," she whispers as she leans back against the pillows, now that she feels her eyes growing heavy. "Aside from supposedly surprising you by making breakfast, whatever you wanted."

He chuckles before kissing her nose. "We have time for that, Eponine."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"You need to get some rest." He doesn't pull the blanket over them but instead he curls his body around hers, resting his arm over her waist. "I'll wake you up later."

She smiles by way of gratitude before kissing his cheek and closing her eyes, content now that he's given her something better than mere dreams.


End file.
